


Break In

by TheTalentedMrHolmes



Category: James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Bond Breaks In, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Not Beta Read, Q can't get a word in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 09:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1463443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTalentedMrHolmes/pseuds/TheTalentedMrHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q wakes after hearing strange noises in the night to find Bond on his sofa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break In

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from Anonymous on Tumblr.

Bond's latest mission was one of the more stressful missions Q had been a part of. It had gone on for two months. It might have been only one month if Bond hadn't tried to speed up the process by seducing who he thought was the target's wife, but actually turned about to be the target.

Not Bond's fault, necessarily, but even if Q hadn't been able to inform him of their master-of-disguise target, Bond shouldn't have been acting so recklessly.

Like that was ever going to happen.

The buffoon was due back on Tuesday and Q had already started practicing his lecture.

_Who do you listen to? Me. Who rules you? Me._

He could say it in his sleep. All twenty minutes of it.

Sleep was something that eluded Q most of his life. Only with the structure and routine of his new job could he finally be settled for a deep REM cycle. He even dreamed these days. Of course he couldn't sleep every night and Q Branch - or more importantly _Bond_ \- was never really that organised anyway, despite the front that suggested it was.

Understandably, sleep didn't get to him until three in the morning after Bond's mission. Binary and explosions were burned into his eyelids.

In only being asleep for an hour, Q was still conscious enough to hear the music filling the flat. He fell out of a tree and jumped awake.

Silence.

Deathly silence; that only found after a hideous noise.

Q licked his lip nervously and shoved his glasses on. He got out of bed as quietly as he could - there was a creak on the right side - and caught the glass of water he knocked with his elbow midair.

Bloody hell. He fetched his dressing gown and returned to his pillow for his gun, switching the safety off.

He nearly shot off a vase of flowers as he tied the knot in his robe. Brushing that aside, Q quietly opened the door.

He held both arms out in front of him, then realised he looked ridiculous and wasn't even using his torch, so dropped one to his side.

The curtain was open in the living room and orange streetlight glowed in the room. It didn't reveal any broken furniture. It didn't reveal stolen technology. All it offered Q was a slightly bloody piano and one battered agent.

"Bond what is the meaning of-" Unfortunately the agent was unconscious and unable to hear his wonderfully crafted tirade. Q frowned and ruffled his hair, the gun tugging at some wayward strands. He glared and flicked the safety back on.

Q put down both the gun and the light and held his hands on his hips as he thought. Perhaps his glare was strong enough to wake the man...

...No, apparently not.

Bond had obviously forwent medical and debrief. There was a duffle bag by the door that was equally dusty as Bond. It might have implied that Bond intended to stay for a while, but Q understood that Bond had come straight to his flat with everything he had. No hesitations. Which was as curious as it was annoying.

With a huff, Q decided the man could stay and lifted his legs one by one - each thigh was three times the size of his own bicep -onto the sofa and tossed a blanket over him.

The young man went to bed again with a bemused smile on his face.

_Bond had taken off his shoes._

 

* * *

 

The next day Q woke later than planned thanks to his interruption (Bond was always ruining his routines) and expected that his stray agent would have disappeared.

When he got into the living room after his shower - in which he attempted to not imagine Bond walking into the bathroom and failed - the bag of Bond's things had moved and the agent was gone.

To the kitchen.

Making breakfast.

With ingredients Q didn't own.

So the man had been up long enough to walk down to the shop and back again. And obviously wasn't as hurt as his piano suggested, unless he was putting on a front.

At least he was awake now to hear his very well worded telling off.

"007-"

"-James. I'm wearing your underwear, after all."

Oh dear.

Q glanced towards Bond's arse. Indeed he was.

He sat at the table, needing a pretense under which he could collect himself.

"James, you have displayed-"

"-Excellent brewing skills." The agent said, finally turning around and placing a cup of tea in front of the Quartermaster. He looked well rested, despite the gash on his throat. Q's eyes widened. "Trust me."

Something in those words - words he had said to Bond and vice versa which had been subsequently ignored far too many times to count - convinced Q to take a sip of his tea.

He slumped in his chair in defeat, all words of punishment dying on his tongue.

"It's passable," he murmured, catching Bond's mischievous eyes. He bit back a smile. "How long do you plan on staying with me?"

"Well, I was thinking-" The childish 'I didn't realise you can think!' died in his throat too. How did a man make serving eggs look so sexy? "-Until you've had enough of me."

"By lunch, then." Q replied, allowing a small smile onto his face despite his irritation. Bond must have drugged the tea, it is the only way possible.

"Give or take," Bond replied, sitting opposite him. The table really was made for two normal people. Not one long legged bespeckled genius and two tree trunks. Q coughed and tried to reposition himself, only for Bond to snake a leg further between his and table them irreversibly.

"Are we comfy?" Asked Bond, who was far too amused for Q's liking.

Q bit his tongue and hummed deep in his throat, picking up his cutlery.

Interrupted sleep pattern aside, Bond's presence had brightened his otherwise dull day. A bellyful of good food and passable tea was the start of Bond easing his way into Q's life irrevocably.

Q didn't know that, but at least the binary and explosions had disappeared - replaced instead by the smug grin of a certain secret agent.


End file.
